


Moon Rising

by Bookdancer



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Amputee Runaan (The Dragon Prince), Don’t copy to another site, Hurt Ethari, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, minor cameo by rayla, not major character death, obligatory references to the moon, post-freeing of rayla's parents and runaan, runaan is ethari's heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:35:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24669250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookdancer/pseuds/Bookdancer
Summary: There’s a major battle between Viren’s forces and everyone else—Ethari protects Runaan.
Relationships: Ethari/Runaan (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 77





	Moon Rising

**Author's Note:**

> you ever write 350 words of a fic, abandon it for 7 months, and then come back and write another 650 words to finish it? no? good for you--it's only 1k words but i wouldn't entirely recommend it lol
> 
> anyway i do not own The Dragon Prince, and this is being cross-posted to both ff.net (Bookdancer) and tumblr (@bookdancerfics)
> 
> i hope you all enjoy!

Ethari doesn’t see the sword, and that’s his second mistake. His first is being so focused on protecting Runaan’s back that he doesn’t even think of his own. He draws an arrow on his bow, sights his target, and shoots, all in a few seconds time. In the next moment there’s pain.

He doesn’t recognize who stabbed him, but they draw back with a smirk on their face and blood on their sword, and Ethari can’t help but make eye contact with them. There is no sympathy there. No pity. No sorrow. If Ethari dies, his death will never haunt this human soldier.

The pain in his side pulses with blood, and Ethari falls to his knees, suddenly weak. His bow slips from his numb fingers.

The soldier that stabbed him turns away, and Ethari’s gaze finds Runaan.

His husband doesn’t fight far away, but with Ethari unable to stand, the distance feels like the time it takes for a new moon to become full. Long, and dark, and bare.

_My love will be with you—_

The thought runs through Ethari’s mind unchecked, and he can’t help but finish it.

_—even when I am not._

“Runaan,” he manages. Something warm and wet trickles from his mouth, but he somehow stays as upright as he can, his knees roots for his legs to stay strong on.

His husband turns, his eyes searching. He wields his one blade as well as he used to wield two, and even as he looks for Ethari, he runs another soldier through.

“Ethari?” Runaan calls.

Ethari fumbles, drops so he’s sitting with his legs sprawled beneath him. His hair is damp with sweat. He thinks the warmth in his mouth may be blood.

“Runaan,” he says again, and it’s only a whisper now, but still his husband finds him.

When Runaan first asked Ethari out, Ethari had said yes as fast as possible, because Runaan’s expression had danced between adoration, exhilaration, and then fear so fast that Ethari was almost afraid he would run and never return, forever scared of rejection.

When Runaan’s eyes meet his, Ethari sees adoration. Love for his husband. He sees exhilaration, the heat of battle. And then he sees fear.

It turns out Runaan’s instinct to those emotions _is_ to run, but not away—he reaches Ethari’s side in seconds.

“Runaan,” Ethari says again, for the third time, and then again and again and again—“Runaan, Runaan, Runaan,” because it’s doubtful he’ll ever get the chance to after this.

“Ethari,” Runaan chokes out, and his arm wraps around Ethari’s shoulders just to lower him to the ground, put pressure on the wound. Ethari has plans—had plans?—for a prosthetic arm for his husband, but he never got to build it, and the hard truth is that Runaan cannot embrace him while also stemming the blood flow. Instead Ethari grasps Runaan’s knee and does his best to smile up at him.

“My heart,” he says, and his voice is soft, and quiet, but he doesn’t have the strength to be loud.

“Save your breath,” Runaan says.

“Runaan,” Ethari says, and he manages some inflection there, and look—he did get to say his husband’s name again. The thought brings a smile to his lips even as he coughs out more blood. “Runaan, my— my heart. I love you.”

Runaan gives him a look, the closest to frantic that Ethari has seen him since Rayla’s first solo mission.

“Stay with me,” Runaan says, and Ethari’s chest throbs for a different reason than the stab wound.

“I want to,” he manages. “I wish to. Runaan—”

“Ethari,” Runaan says. It comes out on a sob. The battlefield has long since faded down to just the two of them, but now it fades further, darkness encroaching on the edge of Ethari’s vision.

“Runaan,” Ethari says, “My heart... I love...”

But he has no strength left, and it’s all he can do to squeeze his husband’s knee one last time before the darkness finishes rolling in, his name on Runaan’s lips.

He wakes to more darkness, but the moonlight is a welcome glow from outside, illuminating the blue tent he’s in with another dozen injured. There are two hands in his, and when he peers down he finds a white head of hair resting on the bed on either side of him.

Ethari extracts his left hand from Rayla and then smoothes it through her hair, around her horns, and smiles. Although he can’t do a proper check, she looks to be uninjured, and he trusts Runaan and her parents would have had her in a bed herself if that wasn’t true.

When he turns to look at his husband, he finds him already awake.

“Runaan,” he murmurs, somehow smiling even harder.

“You fool,” Runaan says, although the tightening grip on Ethari’s hand proves his true sentiment. “Don’t ever sacrifice yourself for me again.”

Ah. “I couldn’t lose you,” Ethari says. “Not after last time.”

Runaan is quiet for a moment before he shakes his head. “I don’t care. Tiadrin told me you didn’t even see the soldier who stabbed you. That’s reckless, Ethari.”

“Tiadrin?” Ethari asks instead.

Runaan nods. “She and Lain saw everything. They’re the reason you’re still alive—they guarded us until I could stem the bleeding enough to take you here. But Ethari, I am serious—you mustn’t do that again. Not if it means your life.”

“I cannot promise that,” Ethari says. “And you know that. You know why.”

Runaan is quiet again, stubborn, and Ethari squeezes his hand.

“How about I promise to try and stay more aware of my surroundings. It was a silly mistake, I’ll be honest; I feel a bit foolish for having made it.”

“Alright,” Runaan concedes. “Although you are not foolish.”

“Aren’t I?” Ethari asks, teasing now.

“No,” Runaan says. “You are smart. And brave. And skillful.” He punctuates the statements with a soft kiss to Ethari’s knuckles. “Although I would not have you make the same mistake again, not when I am at your side.”

“And will you be at my side?” Ethari asks, his voice as soft as Runaan’s kiss. His chest aches terribly.

Runaan kisses his hand again. “Yes,” he says, and looks Ethari in the eye. “I will never leave it.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! i hope you all enjoyed, and as usual i would love it if you commented to let me know what you think!
> 
> i also have a tumblr account, @bookdancerfics, so feel free to drop by and bug me about writing


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